


see you around

by littlervoice



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, of sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 00:21:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7596064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlervoice/pseuds/littlervoice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry just about has time to return the lopsided grin Niall flashes him before the train jolts to life, pulling him out of the station and out of Niall’s orbit once more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	see you around

**Author's Note:**

> partly inspired by the quote below, partly inspired by the line 'is this the wrong place at the wrong time?' from the song love songs by brandi carlile

 

_ “Do you think the universe fights for souls to be together? Some things are too strange and strong to be coincidences.” – Emery Allen _

 

***

When Harry is four his mum’s car breaks down on the way to his first day at primary school. Because of this he arrives late, and because of this there is only one seat left in the classroom once he finally gets there.

He ends up sat next to another boy who speaks in a funny accent Harry has never heard before so he asks the boy if he’s an alien.

“No, silly,” the boy giggles. “I’m Niall.”

Harry eats lunch with Niall and plays with him outside during playtime, and when he goes home Harry can’t stop babbling on to his mum about his new best friend. “His name is Niall and he’s not a alien,” Harry informs her and then shoves a forkful of peas into his mouth.

Harry and Niall remain best friends, practically inseparable from that very first day, until just before Harry’s sixth birthday. Harry makes a list of all the people he wants so invite to his birthday party during half term, Niall’s name at the top, of course, in his wobbly, mismatched handwriting, but when he shows it to his mum she sighs and her eyebrows scrunch together like Harry’s noticed they do when she’s sad.

“That won’t be possible, love,” she tells him, her hand stroking through Harry’s hair as she speaks.

Harry frowns. “Why not? Is it too much people?” He doesn’t want to un-invite anyone. That’s not fair.

His mum is silent for a few minutes until she pulls the chair beside Harry’s out and sits next to him at the table. She takes hold of Harry’s hand and waits until he looks up, meeting her eye. “Love, Niall won’t be able to come to your party, I’m sorry.”

“Why not?” Harry asks her. “Is he busy? Does he not want to come?”

“Niall’s moving back to Ireland,” she says, voice gentle.

“Why?” Niall never usually shuts up, be he didn’t say anything to Harry about that. Harry would remember Niall telling him something as important as that.

“Niall’s parents don’t want to live together anymore. Niall’s dad is going back to live in Ireland, and Niall and his brother are going with him.”

With a frown, Harry picks his pen back up and draws a shaky line through Niall’s name. “Oh,” is all he says. He doesn’t get it. Your mum and dad are supposed to live together for their whole life, not go and live in separate countries and take Harry’s best friend away in doing so. He doesn’t understand it. And he doesn’t like it.

It’s something he understands a few years later though, when his own parents split up and he wishes nothing more than to still be in touch with Niall so he can call him up and talk to someone else who’s been through it before, someone else who gets it.

Someone to tell him it will all be okay.

***

It takes Harry until his second year of university before he starts to come out of his shell. Although he’s not sure if it’s coming out of his shell or if he’s just had enough of his flat mate’s constant comments about how much of a boring twat Harry is every time he turns down one of his invites.

Either way, when Louis asks him if he’s coming to the New Year’s party at Stan’s tonight Harry surprises the both of them when he says yes.

“Well shit,” Louis says, his eyebrows almost reaching his hairline. “Nice of you to deem us worthy of your time, your highness.”

“Fuck off,” Harry grumbles, “can still change my mind, you know.”

He won’t though. Because as much as he enjoys spending his nights in with Netflix as his only company he’s not quite pathetic enough to spend New Year’s Eve, of all nights, alone – not while he’s a student. He thinks he might have his university place withdrawn if he doesn’t go out and celebrate.

“He lives across town so we have to leave early.” Louis’ voice is muffled as he digs around their actually full for once fridge to grab a beer. Apparently he’s starting the celebrating early. “Be ready by half-nine or I’m leaving without you.”

Harry knows that means quarter past nine, so he’s ready by ten past. Which is a good job because the tube is already ridiculously busy, packed full of party-goers well on their way to drunk, and it takes them even longer than expected to get there.

Straight through the door, Louis slips into a conversation seamlessly; these are his friends after all. Harry, on the other hand, finds somewhere safe to hang his coat and sets to work introducing himself to the room, one conversation at a time.

It’s a long, laborious process, and eventually Harry’s voice starts to hurt from having to shout so much over the loud music. So he heads off in the direction of the kitchen to find a beer to swap for the deadly concoction currently in his hand. Louis mixed it for him when they first arrived, handing it over with a devilish grin on his face and saying something about it getting Harry into the party spirit. Whatever’s in it the smell of it reminds Harry of paint stripper. And he’d very much like to wake up tomorrow with his insides firmly intact. So down the drain it goes.

“There are some fancy beers in the fridge,” someone says from behind him. “Some o’ those expensive ones, I won’t tell if you don’t.”

Harry turns to see who’s followed him into the kitchen and, well. He’d recognise that face anywhere. Even with the mess of blonde atop his head instead of his natural brunette Harry can instantly tell it’s Niall. Maybe the accent was the giveaway.

He looks good, Harry thinks. He’s grown into his features, no longer has that baby face Harry remembers so well, instead his jaw is sharper, covered in a hint of stubble that Harry suddenly has the overwhelming need to touch.

Realising he’s been staring Harry coughs and looks away. Silently he goes to the fridge and finds a couple of those beers Niall was talking about. He doesn’t know if Niall recognises him yet, so he flicks the bottle tops off into the overflowing bin and wordlessly hands one of the bottles over.

Niall takes a good long sip and then holds his bottle out for Harry to toast. He has a knowing look in his eyes when he says, “To old friends.”

Harry grins and taps the neck of his bottle against Niall’s, the sound it makes is weirdly satisfying to his ears. “To old friends,” he echoes.

They stay in the kitchen, just the two of them and their respective drinks, but the silence that lapses around them doesn’t turn uncomfortable. Now that Harry knows he’s here there’s something keeping him in this room with Niall, drawing him in, the thought of going back out to the rest of the party suddenly so unappealing.

Finally, Niall pulls his phone out of his jeans pocket. “Shit!”

Harry looks at him expectantly.

“Midnight in five minutes,” he explains. He downs the rest of his drink and Harry finds himself doing the same. “Best get out there.” Niall’s hand circles Harry’s wrist and he tugs him through the kitchen door and out into the cold air of the back garden. Harry’s not wearing his coat but Niall’s gentle touch is keeping him warm somehow, heat seeping up through his skin from where Niall has hold of him.

Down the bottom of the garden one of Louis’ friends fucks the fireworks up and sends a rocket up into the air early. It makes Harry jump and Niall smirks. “Does that mean I can kiss you now or do I have to wait till proper midnight?”

Harry’s mouth goes dry all of a sudden, unaware that this was something he even wanted until Niall brought it up. “I’ve never been a stickler for the rules.”

“Well that’s that then,” Niall murmurs, and in an instant his mouth is on Harry’s.

It’s gentle at first, like Niall’s just testing the waters, as his hand comes up to rest on Harry’s hip, but when Harry runs his tongue against Niall’s lips it’s like his brain is kicked into action, his grip on Harry tightening as he opens his mouth for more. When he pulls away Niall searches Harry’s face, his eyes darting between Harry’s eyes and lips, seemingly nervous all of a sudden, so Harry gives him a reassuring smile.

Around them, the party-goers start a countdown, so Harry brings his lips back to Niall’s, eager to be kissing him as the clock hits midnight.

He doesn’t care about the fireworks, he doesn’t care about the yelps and cheers and catcalls from people he doesn’t know. All he cares about is the press of Niall’s mouth against his, kissing him with a newfound neediness bubbling inside.

Harry doesn’t know how much time has passed when they finally break apart. Most people have trickled back inside, out of the cold air that Harry is finally starting to feel now that Niall’s touch is no longer there.

“So is it true then?” Harry asks, a smile playing at his lips. Niall looks at him with questioning eyes. “Do blondes have more fun?”

“Guess we’ll have to find out,” Niall hums, and Harry likes the sound of that. We.

The moment, if that’s what they were having, is brought to an abrupt halt when Louis stumbles over with one hand covering his mouth, looking panicked. He grabs hold of Harry with his free hand. “We need to go. I’m not– I think I’m gonna–”

And with that he promptly (and loudly) empties the contents of his stomach into the nearest bush.

“Wow, lovely. Happy New Year to you, too.”

Niall’s mouth curls up in amusement but it soon turns into a grimace when Louis straightens back up, wiping his mouth with the bottom of his shirt.

Harry turns his gaze to the sorry state Louis’s in and reluctantly tells Niall, “I’d better take him home. Before he ends up puking on our shoes. Because he won’t pay for another pair if he ruins them, trust me.”

Niall laughs again. “Probably a good idea.”

“See you around?”

“Sure,” Niall smiles. Easy. Warm. Familiar. Then he nods at Louis, swaying on his feet beside Harry and looking more than a little worse for wear. “Good luck with that.”

It’s only when Harry’s finally in his own bed, the ends of his hair damp from the shower he’s just had, that he realises he never got Niall’s number.

_ Oh well _ , he thinks,  _ how hard can it be to find Niall again? _

By the time his second year of university comes to an end and Harry has to pack up all his things to take back to Holmes Chapel, he’s well aware that hindsight is a wonderful thing. And that Facebook doesn’t hold all the answers.

Still, there’s always next year.

***

Christmas is Harry’s favourite time of the year. Just the whole build-up and anticipation of it all brightens his mood immensely. He’s one of those people who finishes his Christmas shopping stupidly early and has all his presents wrapped and under the tree the first week of December.

Gemma is the complete opposite. Every single year she leaves it all until the last few days before the 25 th , and every single year she enlists Harry’s help to find those last minute gifts for the family. Harry pretends helping her is a hardship, but they both know he secretly loves it when she asks. It’s become a tradition of sorts.

She makes him drive her all the way to Manchester, to the city centre, which Harry thinks is ridiculous and completely unnecessary when they have all the shops they need just a short bus journey away from his mum’s house in Holmes Chapel. He tells Gemma as much and she just claps him round the back of the head and tells him to put his foot down.

After getting into no less than three silent arguments with other drivers, Harry manages to find a parking spot, smoothly reversing into the space and hot-footing it towards the car park exit just in case someone has followed him in the hope of continuing their disagreement.

He and Gemma whizz from shop to shop, ticking off the shopping list Gemma has in her head. Eventually she runs out of ideas and the pair loses steam, coming to a standstill in the middle of the high street while Gemma tries to make her mind up where she needs to be next. She’s muttering on about stubborn family members who she still needs to buy gifts for (Harry being one of those) but Harry tunes her out. It’s a common occurrence, him tuning out Gemma for one reason or another, but today it’s because he feels the hair on his neck stand up all of a sudden, he gets that weird feeling in the back of his mind – the one that you get when you feel like someone’s watching you.

And when Harry glances around he’s right. Niall’s stood over by the door to Starbucks, leaning casually against the side of the building with a small smile on his face. One that grows into a grin when Harry meets his eyes.

Just like that Harry’s taken back to that night, that one New Year’s Eve he’s thought about more times than he cares to admit in the months that have passed since.

He wants to go over to Niall, something in his body tells him he has to. But he doesn’t. Because before Harry gets chance to move a girl slips out of the coffee shop door with two takeaway cups of coffee, one of which she hands over to Niall before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

She’s alluring and elegant, and she and Niall look good together as they laugh at something she’s just said, still stood there on the corner. Something in Harry’s stomach drops, which is stupid because it’s been so long since that kiss – and that’s all it was, just a kiss – and they haven’t spoken since. Harry has no right to be feeling this way. He doesn’t  _ want _ to be feeling this way.

Frozen in spot, it’s all Harry can do to watch as Niall raises his cup at him in greeting, nodding once before taking hold of his girlfriend’s hand and ambling off down the street. Harry watches and watches until eventually Niall just becomes another body amongst the sea of frantic shoppers.

“Harry?” Gemma thumps him in the bicep and he snaps his attention back to her. “Are you even listening?”

“Course,” Harry says. He chances one more look down the street but Niall’s disappeared. He’s not sure what he was expecting would happen – maybe to see Niall walking back towards him, this time without a girlfriend in tow. But no. So he plasters an angelic smile on his face and tries to ignore the sinking feeling that’s still in his stomach. “Said something about going to Boots to get something for Nan, right? Bath stuff?”

“Right.”

“Right,” Harry parrots. “Let’s go then.”

He’s only partially relieved when Gemma starts directing him in the opposite direction to Niall.

Harry spends the rest of the shopping trip preoccupied, constantly on edge looking for Niall. Every blonde head making him look twice. He promises himself that if he sees Niall again he’ll go up and speak to him, maybe get his number, even if he does cloud over with apprehension at the thought of it.

It gets so bad that Gemma notices. They stop for lunch in a tiny little café that Gemma spotted down one of the backstreets. All decked out for Christmas, it’s warm and it’s cosy and there’s a little bell above the door causing Harry to look up every time it tinkles. Just in case.

“Who are you looking for?”

“No one,” Harry says. His sister’s arched eyebrow tells him she doesn’t believe him one bit but she doesn’t press him on the issue. “Just thought I saw an old mate is all. Probably mistaken,” he shrugs, and then their food arrives and the topic is dropped.

***

It takes Harry seven months to find a proper job after he’s graduated. It means he has to get up stupidly early and catch the rush hour tube into London but it’s worth it, because it also means he gets to put his degree to use after spending all that money on it.

A few weeks into his new role Harry’s boss gives him the opportunity to go to a conference across town. “Only if you want,” she says. “It’s not obligatory, just thought maybe you’ll find it interesting.”

So Harry, ever eager to please (and maybe a bit eager for a change of scenery), agrees to go.

He makes his way down to the tube station, to his usual 7:45 train, except this time he’s heading in the opposite direction. Even further out of town instead of in.

The carriage is blessedly empty when he gets on and it feels kind of bizarre for Harry to have a choice of seats when normally he’s fighting for even just an inch of standing room. He settles into his seat and turns his attention out the window as his usual train rolls to a stop at the platform opposite. He’s not one bit envious of the crush of people making their way onto the train.

Until Harry sees him.

There amongst the throng of disgruntled commuters packed into the carriage is Niall. Stood wearing a pair of headphones, he still has his blonde hair, only this time it’s not styled up into a quiff like Harry remembers. This time it’s flattened and sort of brushed to one side, like perhaps he was running late this morning and didn’t have much time to do much with it.

One of the women next to Niall bumps into him and he’s brought out of whatever reverie he was in. His head snaps up, eyes instantly locking with Harry’s even though he’s all the way across the platform. Almost as if Niall knew he was there.

Harry just about has time to return the lopsided grin Niall flashes him before the train jolts to life, pulling him out of the station and out of Niall’s orbit once more.

***

His hair’s back to brunette again, is the first thing Harry notices. And then it’s the way Niall fills out his charcoal suit, tailored perfectly to his narrow waist and broad shoulders.

And after that it’s the silver wedding band on his finger.

For some reason it makes Harry’s stomach churn. He wants to turn around and leave the wedding reception already, before Niall gets the chance to spot him. Louis would understand. Hell, Louis probably wouldn’t even notice. But Harry’s mother taught him better than to back out of his commitments so easily.

So he ends up doing a tango, of sorts, around the room with Niall as he jumps from conversation to conversation. Niall takes a step forward, Harry takes a step back. Happily keeping his distance even though inside he knows he’s only delaying the inevitable. He’s seen the seating plan; Niall will be spending the afternoon right by his side. And Harry can’t figure out whether it’ll be a good thing or not.

Niall’s already seated when Harry gets to their table. “Harry,” he greets with a lazy smile, and then gestures to the wine bottles lined up in the centre of the table. “White or red?”

Already heating up, Harry slips his suit jacket off and tucks it over his chair back. “Red, please.”

Niall pours Harry’s drink in silence, the rest of their table companions already deep in conversation with one another.

“I, uh. I didn’t think I’d see you here,” Harry says eventually. “I didn’t think you and Lou were that close.”

“Yeah, the invitation was a bit of a shock when it came through the door. Think he wanted to get the footy lads back together,” Niall nods at one of the tables by the door that’s full of rowdy blokes who’ve clearly taken advantage of the free bar already. “Been a long time since we all saw each other.”

“Then how come you’re not sat with them?” Harry wonders aloud.

“Must not’ve been room,” Niall shrugs. “But I don’t mind. Be nice to catch up with you, too.”

He smiles sweetly at Harry who finds himself nodding. “Yeah, nice.”

“Seriously,” Niall continues. “It’s good to see you again.”

“So. You on your own?” Harry can’t help himself.The ring on Niall’s finger has been catching his attention ever since he first saw it, he needs to know more.

“My invite didn’t have a plus one,” Niall says.

“Mine neither,” Harry lies. It did. He just didn’t have anyone to bring.

“Otherwise I’d have brought my wife,” Niall continues, grabbing the bottle of water and topping up his and Harry’s glasses. “You remember the girl I was with when we saw each other that time at Christmas? Proposed to her on New Year’s Eve the same year.”

“Oh, wow. That was fast,” Harry says, thinking how just one year before that  _ he _ was kissing Niall to welcome in the New Year.

“Maybe,” Niall says. “But it felt right. And we’re still together and we’re still happy. That’s all that counts, right?”

“Right.”

Harry’s glad when he hears the tapping of a fork against a wine glass signalling the start of the wedding speeches. He’s heading into dangerous territory, he can’t seem to stop himself, and he knows he’ll only end up making himself feel shitty, so the distraction is welcomed. Although he couldn’t repeat a word of the best man’s speech because he spent the entire time watching the way Niall’s eyes would crinkle in the corner every time he laughed.

It’s easier once the meal is over. No longer confined to their table, they’re free to roam the venue, congratulate Louis and Danielle, talk to everyone else. Yet somehow Harry finds he keeps drifting back to Niall, never more than a room away, like there’s some sort of invisible tether keeping them from separating.

As the evening winds down, Harry himself decides it’s time to call it a night, and Niall ends up walking him to the hotel door. One hand rests against Harry’s back, a warm presence, and his other is holding a quarter-full bottle of beer.

“Wait.” Harry brings them to a halt just before they make it out into the cool night air. “I’m too drunk to drive I need to call a taxi.”

He’d intended to only have a glass of wine with his meal and then he’d be safe to drive, but he hadn’t anticipated Niall would be here to press another beer into his hand each time his glass had been drained. Still, he’d tried to pace himself. He’s only tipsy.

“A taxi?” Niall frowns.

“You know, that method of transportation where you pay them to drive you to your destination.”

“Ha ha.” Niall gives him a half-hearted thump on the arm. “I know what a taxi is, idiot. Just think it’s stupid to waste your money when I have a perfectly decent hotel room you can use right here.”

Harry’s stomach twists. He wonders how much Niall’s had to drink for him to make the suggestion so easily. He’s definitely had more than Harry tonight. “Niall…”

“It’ll be, what, at least fifteen quid to get you home? And then you’ll have to come back and get your car in the morning, that’s thirty quid down the drain for no reason.”

“I can’t– It’s your hotel room, you paid for it, I can’t just intrude. It’s rude.”

“It’s not intruding,” Niall says, “when I’m offering.” He turns on his heel and sets off toward the lifts without another word. Harry stays where he is, swaying from foot to foot, thinking.

Fuck it, he decides, and slides into the lift with Niall just as the door’s closing. 

Harry wakes up in unfamiliar surroundings, in a room with curtains that look too expensive to be his and a mattress that’s too comfy to be the one he inherited from his sister. He takes a moment to wipe the sleep from his eyes and last night’s events come back to him easily.

Niall’s still fast asleep on the mattress beside him, sprawled on his stomach with his head turned towards Harry and his lips parted the tiniest amount so that every time he exhales he releases a sharp puff of breath. His arm’s outstretched across the bed between them and when Harry shifts, the sunlight streaming in through the window reflects off the silver wedding ring and catches his eye. It takes a second for Harry to register it, but then it feels like he’s had the wind kicked out of him.

He knows he and Niall didn’t do anything last night, they just went straight to sleep, but he suddenly finds it hard to breathe. The walls feel like they’re going to close in on him, crush him alive, and he desperately needs to get out of there.

Double checking Niall’s still asleep, Harry gently rolls off the bed, being careful not to bounce the mattress too much. He gets dressed in record time, still buttoning his crumpled shirt and with his feet only stuffed part way into his shoes as he leaves the hotel room without so much as a second glance at Niall.

***

Twenty-eight finds Harry in the middle of a loveless marriage.

Well. He wouldn’t call it loveless, because it’s not, not really. He and Liam are still amicable by all means. But that’s just it. They’re  _ amicable _ . Amicable is for friends and colleagues, not spouses.

They lost that spark they once had somewhere along the way and Harry doesn’t know where. Nothing changed, Liam didn’t do anything to make Harry fall out of love. Like things do, it just happened.

Harry doesn’t know what to do about it, he doesn’t know how to tell Liam. Liam who seems perfectly content with their current situation. The two of them have become trapped in the same routine which is boring, yes, but it’s also comfortable and safe and reassuring. Harry hates himself for allowing his life to become so predictable, when growing up it was always something he was determined not to let happen.

But at the same time he’s too scared to do anything about it. Afraid that if he tries to rock the boat he’ll end up tipping it over completely and he’ll be out of his depth, end up drowning in everything that’s different.

Like clockwork, Liam gets in from work twenty minutes after Harry does. And like clockwork, he jumps in the shower for ten minutes before returning to the kitchen smelling like the mint-scented shower gel he always buys.

He grabs the Chinese takeaway menu out of the drawer that has, over the years, become known as the junk drawer. He opens it out on the counter in front of the two of them even though it’s pretty pointless when they order the same thing every time. “Want your usual?”

Harry slides the menu so it’s completely in front of him. “No,” he murmurs, preoccupied, “think I’ll have the Szechuan chicken this time.” The way Liam’s eyebrows shoot up almost makes him change his mind and go back to his usual.  _ Rocking the boat _ , he reminds himself. One bit at a time. “With fried rice.”

Liam doesn’t comment on Harry’s change of habit, just dutifully picks up the phone and orders their food which, when it arrives, leaves Harry feeling with a sense of accomplishment. No matter how small.

Harry starts making more of these changes over the next few weeks. Nothing dramatic, just little things here and there, but eventually the satisfaction Harry feels wears off. It’s not enough. Because no one really notices, no one acknowledges what he’s doing, and sometimes Harry can’t help but feel he’s doing it for nothing.

And then he kicks himself for even thinking that in the first place, because of course no one’s going to notice he’s wearing a different coloured tie to usual today. No one’s going to care that he bought a jacket potato from the trailer outside his office for lunch instead of his usual Caesar salad from Tesco. These are all just inconsequential little things. He needs to do something bigger.

So one day he does.

He turns left out of his office instead of right, to the tube home. He keeps on walking, no idea where he’s headed, until he comes across a pub down one of the side streets a mile or so away. He walks past it at first, up towards the chippy at the end of the road that’s wafting tempting smells his way, but something in his gut tells him to turn back around.

There aren’t many people in there when Harry slips in through the pub door. A few people at the bar, a couple sat in the far corner, but that’s about it. It’s empty enough but not too empty for Harry to think he won’t enjoy a drink or two here before heading back home.

He orders a cider because it makes him think of his uni days and takes it over to a table near the darts board. There’s a crossword puzzle in the newspaper in his bag that he digs out along with a pen, because he’s more interested in that than he is the football game playing over on the telly.

“Inevitable.” The voice behind Harry makes him jump. He turns to see who it is.

“Niall?”

“Hey,” Niall grins. He swaps the hand that’s holding his pint and reaches over Harry’s shoulder to tap his finger on the page. Harry’s quick to notice the wedding ring that’s missing. “Thirteen, down. I’m pretty sure it’s inevitable.”

Harry counts the letters and compares the already filled in boxes. “I think you’re probably right,” he says and writes the word in. Niall’s still hovering behind Harry so Harry turns in his seat and asks if he’d like to join him.

He wants to jump right in and ask Niall about the missing ring. For some reason it made his heart race when he saw it wasn’t there, he instantly felt a little bit lighter, and Harry wonders if it makes him a horrible person for reacting that way. He pushes those thoughts to one side and asks instead what Niall’s doing on this side of town.

“Actually I’ve been back in Ireland with my da for a bit,” Niall explains. “Just got back in town earlier and fancied a drink. Somehow I ended up here, of all places.”

“It’s a nice place,” Harry says.

Niall pulls a face. “Bit quiet for my liking. How’s about we liven it up a little?”

They each down another drink and they end up over at the pool table after Niall managed to rope two of the guys at the bar into a game. Niall says it’s because he promised them free drinks but Harry thinks it’s because people just can’t seem to say no to Niall. Himself included, apparently, as he agrees to another round despite the fact his phone has been buzzing in his pocket non-stop for the past half hour with phone calls and texts from Liam wondering where he is.

Niall and Harry end up winning the first game but spectacularly losing the two that follow, so Harry decides it’s time to call it a night.

It’s raining when they get outside so they huddle under the awning while Niall calls a taxi. “You know, you’re more than welcome to come back to mine,” he says after he hangs up.

“Um, I really should get back. But thanks.”

Niall simply nods and says, “Okay,” like he was expecting the answer to be no, and then they lapse into silence.

“Liam – my husband – he’ll be wondering where I am,” Harry feels the need to explain, and god, it just dawns on him how awful he’s been. He tries to explain to Niall but half the words seem to get stuck in his throat, not allowing him to make much sense. “Oh god, he’s been– and I’ve. I’m the worst–”

Niall shuts him up by pulling him into a hug. Harry instantly melts into it, despite the shock of it, tucking his chin over Niall’s shoulder and just breathing.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s fine. You’re not the worst.” Harry can feel the comforting rumble of Niall’s voice where their chests are pressed together, and he savours it, remembers it and neatly tucks it away at the back of his mind for some unknown reason.

“Liam’ll understand.” Niall gives Harry a final squeeze and puts some distance between them, but he keeps his hands on Harry’s shoulders and holds his gaze. “You ran into an old friend and you lost track of time, it happens. Don’t beat yourself up over it, okay?”

“Okay,” Harry agrees, although he knows he probably will when he finally gets home and is lying in bed wide awake with Liam sound asleep beside him.

Niall’s taxi pulls up to the curb behind them so Niall finally lets go of Harry, still eyeing his face when he asks if he’s okay to get home.

“My tube stop’s not far,” Harry tells him, putting on a smile and opening the car door for Niall.

“Be safe.” Niall steps forward and presses a kiss to Harry’s cheek over the top of the door. “See you around,” he says with a final grin, and then ducks into the car.

Harry watches until the taxi turns left at the end of the road before setting off in the opposite direction to the tube station.

***

“Come on, you can’t be late to your own party, Harry.”

“I think I can be as late as I want considering it’s a surprise party I’m not supposed to know about. Honestly, Gem, they know how god-awful you are with secrets, why they told you in the first place is beyond me.”

“Someone has to get you there,” Gemma shrugs. “Now get a shift on, mum’ll definitely kill me if we turn up late as well as with you knowing where we’re going.”

Harry barely has time to finish buttoning up his coat before Gemma is shoving him into a taxi, giving the driver strict instructions to step on it. They arrive at Harry’s favourite bar only two minutes after they were supposed to which Harry thinks is pretty good considering they were all the way across town.

Gemma quickly pays the driver and then turns to make a grand gesture towards to the bar entrance.

“After you, birthday boy.”

Harry shakes his head but goes to open the door anyway, barreling straight into someone as he does.

“Niall?”

“Hi.”

“No way,” Gemma’s eyes light up, “I haven’t seen you since you were half the size you are now. How’s things?”

“Uh, good,” Niall says. “Great, actually.” The three of them stand in silence, no one knowing what to do next. Eventually Niall speaks up. “Anyway, I was just leaving so I’ll let you get back to your evening.”

“Nonsense,” Gemma scoffs. “You should stay.” Niall looks unconvinced, warily shifting his gaze between her and Harry. “It’s Harry’s birthday surprise and there’s a miserable lack of guests who aren’t related to him.”

“Gem.”

“What? I’m just saying. We need someone to even up the numbers. Bring down the average age in there.” She jerks a thumb towards the entrance. When neither Harry or Niall move she shrugs. “Well, I’m dying for a drink, so. You two make your minds up. Nice seeing you again, Niall.” She flashes him a final smile and then disappears into the bar in a wave of noise that comes and goes as the door swings open and shut again.

“Same old Gemma then.”

“Same old Gemma,” Harry grins. “Sorry about that. You don’t have to come in if you don’t want. If you’re busy or whatever. I mean, not that I’d mind - I’d love you to, if you like?”

Niall looks around Harry, like he’s trying to see through the door who’s inside. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” he says.

“Why not? Please come in with me,” Harry says, then adds with a smile, “Don’t make me face that lot on my own. They’ll sing Happy Birthday to me and I’m not sure I’ll be able to handle it.”

Niall gives him a half-smile and then says, “What, uh. What about your husband?”

“Not my husband anymore.”

“Oh.”

The silence drags out between them once more, the rowdy voices of Harry’s family and friends creeping out through the door to fill the emptiness.

“Stay,” Harry urges. “Just for one drink.” He moves in closer and places his hand on Niall’s arm. “It’s my birthday, you can’t say no.” 

Niall looks at the hand on his arm then back to Harry’s face. Finally he nods and allows himself a smile. “One drink.”

***

It’s about 3am when the party finally dies down, the last of the guests trickling up to their hotel rooms or out the door to their awaiting taxis, leaving Harry and Niall alone for the first time all evening. Well, apart from those few minutes they were able to disappear into the toilets and trade messy, newly-wed hand jobs which seemed to be over before they’d barely begun.

Harry looks at Niall beside him. The glow from the fairy lights strung across the far wall makes him look unreal. Harry can’t quite believe that it’s his ring on Niall’s finger this time. That Niall’s chosen him, after all this time. After all those missed opportunities.

Harry can’t help but wonder sometimes. If they were always meant to end like this. Together. He wonders if Niall’s thought about it before, gets as far as asking, “Do you ever–?” before he abruptly shuts himself up.

“Ever what?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Niall grins and places his hand on top of Harry’s where it rests on the table between them. He traces Harry’s ring with a delicate finger. “Come on, Harry, I just agreed to spend the rest of me life with you, don’t go getting all shy on me now.”

“I dunno, just.” Harry shrugs one shoulder as he tries to string the words together so that what he wants to say makes sense. “Do you think that the universe wanted us to end up together?” Niall cocks his head to one side, looking amused, but also a little bit intrigued, and Harry feels a blush adorn his cheeks. “Like, ever since we first met and you moved away. We kept meeting. Even though we never kept in touch we still ended up bumping into each other, in the most random of places.”

Niall doesn’t say anything. Neither does Harry for a moment.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s stupid. But I feel like we kept meeting for a reason, you know?” Harry locks his fingers with Niall’s and lifts their hands up between them, squeezing gently. “This reason.”

“So what you’re saying,” Niall drawls, “is that you’ve known we were going to get married since we were four?”

“ _ I _ didn’t know that. But someone, or something, did.”

“And they – whoever they are – kept making us meet until we finally figured it all out?”

“Maybe,” Harry shrugs, feeling a little bit silly now that he’s brought it to Niall’s attention.

“You’re mad,” Niall laughs, but it’s not cruel. His grin softens and his eyes turn all sincere as he meets Harry’s gaze. “Well, whatever it was, I’m glad they didn’t give up.”

“Me too,” Harry agrees. “Now how about we go end the night like we’re supposed to?”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading  
> i can be found [here](http://littlervoice.tumblr.com/)


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